Starlight
by NefariaBlack
Summary: "She is his homing beacon, always." A little Belladolphus one shot written for several prompts


_Author's Notes: Prompts and Challenges to be found at the end_

 _Word count – 1.041_

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 **Starlight**

It's the second time she wakes tonight. He thought the first time was bad, with all the talking and the frenetic walking around. The second time is much worse.

Her need to pace their room is relentless. It's as if she needs physical assurance of no longer being confined to the small cells of Azkaban. The dark doesn't help, but the light always startles her. So Rodolphus decides to let the night rule sovereign.

He takes a second to dwell in the possibility of remaining where he is. Warm, under the covers, still half asleep. Maybe she'll just grow tired on her own and come back to bed.

Her mumbled words prove him wrong,

"It's always so cold in here. I must escape."

He sighs, launching his legs over the side of the bed, his toes curiously touching the rug until they touch his slippers and his feet are warm again.

Warmth. That thing he had never valued properly until it was taken away completely. It took them weeks to even get warm again after their escape. It never takes more than a few seconds to become cold once more, though.

So he gets up hating the night, and the darkness, and the cold, and all the thrice damned things that feed her madness and keep him awake at night.

She is clad in nothing but a light nightgown, a skimpy little thing that used to hug her curves snuggly and now simply falls off her bony shoulders and dances around her malnourished form. She is also barefoot, hair wild and loose from the braid he had so carefully put together earlier.

The curtains are drawn, so there aren't that many clues for her mind to gather, to help her realize she is no longer _there_. Still, she must have walked over the soft rugs, and she must be able to feel that the wall she is scratching at is not wet, cold stone but a carefully sculpted wood panel.

Rodolphus can't really blame her. His mind isn't exactly sound these days either.

He is mere steps away from her when he reaches out with his right hand. Her skin feels clammy, cold, coarse. It's not the right colour, but it feels just like a Dementor's. He wants to remove his hand, but something stops him.

Then Bella turns to face him, and her eyes are hollow. Her eyes are not there. Her face is not there, just a dark, dark shadow, looking wet under the scant moonlight that filters through the curtains, with a widening mouth. A mouth that moves towards him, towards his lips.

He wants to run, and to scream, and to remove his hand, and to turn away, and to simply disappear from existence if Bella is no longer. But something stops him.

A voice.

A soothing voice.

Hoarse. The voice is hoarse. It's a woman's voice, a lovely raspy voice.

Bella's.

He comes to his senses, sweating, shivering, fighting for every breath of air. He's in her arms, she's is the one gathering the pieces of his mind and putting them back together this time.

It was just a dream, he realizes. A nightmare. A dark creature his mind concocted while he wasn't paying attention.

He makes a move to get up, but she stops him. She is half his size, so she has to put all of her weight on his chest to force him back down under the covers, but she manages.

"No, Dolph, you can't get out of bed now. You need to sleep."

She caresses his forehead, pushing his damp hair out of the way. He closes his eyes under the touch of her fingers, but immediately jumps up, holding her hand in his.

What if the dream comes back? What if Bella is no longer? What if there is a Dementor here? What if they're still _there_?

"Hush, Dolph, it's alright," her raspy voice is but a murmur, a voice to soothe children to sleep, "here, open up." She is skilfully waving her wand about in the air, wordlessly summoning a little vial, with a dropper attached to the stopper. He suspects she has cast a spell on him too. He feels like his body is in a stupor, much quieter than his mind would have it.

He opens his mouth, trusting her completely. He is probably the one person capable of blindingly trusting Bellatrix Lestrange. Or the only one mad enough to do it. But he does, nonetheless.

"It's _Dreamless Sleep_ , it will help you. You need to sleep. Sleeping right helps with the nightmares, you know?"

He can't answer, not with her counting the drops that land on his tongue. But he nods as he swallows, and then clings to her body. Her body that is warm, bony, but soft skinned. He nuzzles his head against her breasts, foregoing pillows. Who cares about pillows when there's a welcoming bosom to rest one's head?

From there, he raises his head, turning his eyes to hers. She is smiling to him, lovingly, still caressing his forehead. He fears he might be dreaming again, and as nice as this is, he needs reality.

He startles once more. And once more she soothes him, ushering little nonsenses through his hair, waiting for the potion to take hold. Pointing her wand at his body, making it feel much heavier, much too tired.

His eyes search hers, craving the only light they need. Starlight. He embraces her tiny waist, holding her closer. This forbidden love, this passion, that he has full knowledge of, this grave offense that is to desire something that belongs to his Master, this madness he embraces with deliberate and complete consent. Holding his damnation closer, craving this cardinal sin of his, he finds peace.

Looking into her eyes, into the starlight that guides him, he lets himself go to sleep, and does not fear the dreams that will not come now.

She is starlight. She is his homing beacon, always. Not one on the safe shore, though. No. She is the beacon set by pirates, on the rocks, to lure the careless, to wreck them. But he trusts starlight, and the potion is much too strong to fight the current now.

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 _Assignment #8 Gardening: Task 1 Opium Poppy – Write about someone being put to sleep forcefully, such as being knocked unconscious or drugged._

 _365 Prompts Challenge: 319 Title - Starlight_

 _April House Challenge Going, Going, Gone! 31 Pairing – Bellatrix/Rodolphus_


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